We Live in a Diffuse World
by obaona
Summary: Everything has been resolved. Yeah, right. Mostly Liam, Sandoval, and Renee. Part 7 up, completed.
1. Part 1

Title: We Live in a Diffuse World

A/N: Don't wanna spoil it, so no summary for now. Liam and Sandoval will be the main characters, however, and there is Liam/Renee later on as well. Don't know how long it will be. Thanks for the title go to a friend of mine (thanks, Yubsie).

I also rather want a beta reader, but don't know where to find one for an EFC fic, as I'm more familiar with Star Wars. So . . . *crosses fingers* I'll try to update in a few days.

**~*~*~**

It was over.

Finally, blessedly, over. The Taelons were saved, united with their brethren, the Jaridians. Using ancient Kimera genetic technology found on Earth, the two races were combined in young hybrids. Children. The two races balanced each other – a new species was created out of them. Their parents were, however, beyond saving – the Taelons and Jaridians would be extinct in a few hundred years. But remnants and combinations of their ways would live in their children. 

Zo'or hadn't been happy with the news, and neither had many Taelons and Jaridians – that they would die, even if their children would live. But to live through your children was better than to die and be forgotten. 

Liam sighed, taking a fistful of loose soil in his hand and letting it fall through his fingers. He wondered if that was how Ha'gel viewed creating him. Living on, sort of. He rather doubted it – he thought Ha'gel was likely happy where was, unconcerned with being remembered, though sad at his people's slaughter in this realm.

Well, it really didn't matter. Liam would always have his Kimera heritage, but it was no longer a part of humanity's, or anyone else's, future. The truth in his palms was no longer needed the way it had been. He hoped.

Here, it hardly seemed like it had even happened. Liam sat on the cold soil, leaning against a boulder, watching the water flow by. The river wasn't a big one, just a little twisting path through the mountains. Wild flowers bloomed in crevices, in bunches along the rocky ground. His cabin, newly bought, was about a mile away, looking over the small ravine he was in now. It wasn't too high of an elevation here, but high enough that it was a bit chilly in spring. 

Besides the rugged beauty of the mountains and the soothing sound of the river, there was one thing about the place that he treasured most: he was alone.

Moreover, he had absolutely nothing to do. No plots to foil, no terrorists to catch, no Resistance to run. He didn't even have to worry about people finding out about his heritage anymore – not that he had revealed the truth to anyone more, even after the efforts of the Resistance were vindicated. He wasn't in a high-level position any longer, under constant suspicion. Who would look for him? His enemies were either dead or unlikely to hold anything against him – Sandoval was pardoned for his crimes as he had been serving humanity as well as himself, and Zo'or was more concerned with using the time he had left, at the advisement of his parent.

Liam pulled his leather jacket tighter around his body, folded his legs, and closed his eyes. 

His friends were doing well. Augur was up to his usual hijinks, Renee was busy with Doors International, and Da'an . . . Da'an was busy finding some measure of peace, and rejoicing in his hybrid children. He planned to visit the alien frequently, for however long either of them lived. He did consider Da'an a friend, even after the things they had done to each other. They had gone through too much for it to be otherwise.

He himself had no plans for the future. He just wanted to wait and see what happened. Maybe experience those things he had always been to busy to experience and learn, things he had only known through the ghostly memories of his parents. Sleeping without nightmares, making normal friends without having to worry if they're spies or if they're secretly out to kill you – or what would happen if they found out your secrets. 

He was looking forward to thoroughly experiencing peace. 

Liam's eyes snapped open at the sound of a twig snapping. He tensed, his hand automatically going for his gun . . . that wasn't there, since he had left it at the cabin. He cursed mentally, and waited, alert. The boulder he was leaning against was big enough it couldn't be gotten over, and so he looked out ahead and to the sides of him.

Nothing. A few minutes passed, and he only heard the unworried chirp of birds sitting around or flying across a cloudless, blue sky.

_Probably my imagination_, Liam thought. _Who would be out here?_ Even Renee didn't know exactly where the cabin was. After another few uneventful moments, he relaxed. 

Snap.

Before Liam could even rise to his feet, a dark figure appeared around the boulder, attacking Liam. A fist to his face, and then the figure grabbed Liam's throat, choking him even as he straddled him. Liam kicked, struggling, gasping for air. 

His eyes widened as he got a good look at the man. "Sandoval?" he gasped.

Sandoval snarled, his usually neat black hair falling into crazed, dark eyes. "I want my son, you bastard," he snarled, and brought up his gun.

It went downward in a flash, and Liam heard a sharp crack as he tilted into nothingness.


	2. Part 2

w00t! Reviews! :D 

Candy Dawn: Well, I did all that to set the stage for everything else that happens. And I certainly hope it's a good plot! Thank you for reviewing. :D

Sabrina: I can't answer all of those yet! It'd give everything away! And sorry, Renee doesn't rescue Liam, but he doesn't rescue her either. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

Hopefully I'll update soon. I'm obsessively looking over what I write, so it may be a week or so. ;)

**~*~*~**

It felt like little slivers of glass were being wedged into his head, when Liam finally woke. He was familiar with the feeling, so the normal moment of disorientation didn't last long. He remembered Sandoval, and he remembered . . .

Sandoval was looking for his son?

Feeling like he was fighting an uphill battle to remain conscious, Liam opened his eyes. He was in his cabin, staring at an unstained, wooden wall in the kitchen. He was slumped in a chair, his hands and legs painfully tied. His mouth was dry and his mind felt sluggish. Either he had a concussion or he had been drugged.

As he rapidly blinked, trying to control the wooziness, Sandoval walked into the room. The former Taelon Companion was looking well, Liam noted absently. His hair was a little longer than he remembered, longer than regulation. He looked healthy, and wore green fatigues. As Liam watched, he made himself a cup of Liam's coffee.

"That's mine, you know," Liam said half-heartedly, looking for some response other than the appraising stare Sandoval was giving him from time to time. 

Sandoval didn't respond, calmly sipping the fresh, hot coffee.

Liam decided on another tactic. Sandoval usually preferred bluntness. "I don't have your son. I didn't even know you had one." Denial denial denial. Well, he could hardly tell the man he was his son. 'Yeah, I'm your son, we can let all those murder attempts go'. Sandoval was his father . . . but he didn't _trust_ him.

Sandoval put his mug down. "Bullshit," he said calmly.

Liam sighed.

"First of all, while the blanket pardon absolved Resistance members of any crimes they committed while fighting, it didn't say they had to reveal their command structure – and they never did. I don't buy it that Doors was always the leader - I think he left the organization for his own purposes sometime before his death." He picked up the mug, again, and sipped the coffee. "And I was always fairly certain you were a high-ranking member. That you were on their pardon roll only proved me right."

"And?" Liam asked, sure there was more. Sandoval didn't appear angry, as he had when he had taken Liam, instead having an eerie calm that didn't soothe Liam one bit. 

"When I was . . . dying, I was given blood from a first degree relative. Though I'm sure you know that – maybe even arranged it," Sandoval said matter-of-factly. "They didn't use all of that blood to cure me of my genetic ailment. So I had it analyzed." He looked at Liam almost accusingly. "And what do you know . . . anomalies definitely not human in origin."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "But what does that have to do with me? The Taelons had their hybrid program –"

"Ah, but I checked that. I had access to everything, a lot more than Zo'or ever suspected. If they made a child with my DNA . . . they didn't keep it." He paused. "Which leads me to you. If the Taelons didn't have the boy, then it's reasonable to assume the Resistance stole it somehow. I'm sure getting their hands on an alien hybrid to poke and prod was a huge bonus for them." Sandoval narrowed his eyes. 

"And as a high-ranking Resistance member, you think I have knowledge of it," Liam finished, closing his eyes. The ache in his head increased. Sandoval had evidently thought this through. Well, he hadn't thought it a likely possibility he could get away with a well-crafted lie, anyway. In fact, his assaulting Liam indicated he was pretty certain. And he had evidently discarded the notion of bugging the Taelons about it.

"Well?" Sandoval said stiffly.

"Well, what?" Liam said, purposely being dense while he tried to think.

The mug hit the countertop with a _thunk_. "Where is he?"

Liam pursed his lips, staring at the spilled coffee that had splashed over the edges of the cup. "What the hell do you expect me to say?" he said at last. 

"I want to know where he is," Sandoval said flatly.

"That's not good enough," Liam replied, just as flatly, giving the man a hard stare. 

Sandoval remained outwardly calm, though a hint of fury showed in his eyes. "I don't want to torture you," he said quietly.

"You've done it before," Liam snapped, and immediately regretted it. He sighed, closing his eyes again. "You're not exactly trustworthy," he began. "Your actions . . ." He shook his head. "Why should you know anything of your son?"

"You actually claim to be protecting him?" Sandoval said in disbelief. 

_This is so absurd_, Liam thought. "I think he was in a better hands with the Resistance, who actually had some compassion, rather than the likes of Zo'or!"

"Was?" Sandoval said fiercely.

Liam shifted uncomfortably. "Well, the Resistance doesn't exist any longer," he prevaricated. "Not really."

Sandoval glared at him darkly. "I would not have given him to the Taelons. Not ever," he gritted, finally.

Liam changed his position in his chair, shooting pain beginning to come up his arms and legs. "Well, I believe that statement," he said sarcastically, trying to get the stiffness out of his neck. 

"You are as irritating as ever, Major," Sandoval snapped. 

Liam gave him a weak smile, a ridiculous plan forming in his mind and popping out of his mouth at the same time. "You wouldn't have hurt your son? Prove it."

"What?" Sandoval looked taken aback.

Liam raised an eyebrow. "Well, you can't really give him to the Taelons anymore, so I'm inclined to believe your reasons for wanting to . . . see him, have nothing to do with that. But why now? And would you have, given the opportunity, then?" He stared at Sandoval, and saw a hint of discomfort in those dark eyes. "Prove to me that want to see him because you care for him, as you seem to be implying is the case. And I'll take you to your son."

Sandoval glared at him in disbelief. "Prove . . . to _you."_

Liam gave an aborted shrug, wincing at the pull on his wrists. "Yep."

The shock began to fade, to be replaced with animosity. "I believe using other methods would be quicker," he said, recovering.

"Come now," Liam said with a smirk, "torturing me didn't work before, it won't work now."

"No one is around to save you this time," Sandoval retorted. "I came after you here for a reason . . . you made it so very convenient."

Liam just looked at him, certain he would get his way. "Untie me."

Sandoval glared.

"Keeping me tied up isn't going to prove to me that you care," Liam said pointedly. And waited, watching for the sign he knew was going to come. That Sandoval had changed since the time Ha'gel had taken him, and given Liam his memories – of which he could access only in pieces – was not in question, but he was sure he was reading the man right. Sandoval knew torturing Liam would probably not get him the information, and even if it did, it would cause him problems later, what with Liam's contacts. He also knew that Sandoval expected him to have some honor, just from past dealings with the man.

"I detest you, Major," Sandoval muttered, and went to untie Liam.


	3. Part 3

Wow, look at all those reviews!

jnp: I was also really sad when Liam was killed – and that there was never a father/son confrontation really frustrated me, because I was looking forward to it for years. So, that's why I'm writing this. :p Not sure who will appear, but hopefully I'll be able to bring everyone in. :) Thank you!

Your Worshipfulness: There aren't enough Liam/Sandoval fics out there. So I decided to help correct the problem. ;) Thank you. 

Candy Dawn: Thank you. It was very fun to write – for some reason, Liam and Sandy banter well in my head. :p I plan to update at least once a week.

Sabrina: Thank you. I like that line, too. ;) And yes, she appears the chapter after this one.

Sammy: Thank you – and hopefully you'll like how I bring Renee in. ;) I should write other EFC vignettes, I think. I've already got 40+ SW ones. :p

  
Jamieson Z: My beta. ;) Suffice to say, thanks a ton! :D

Dark Topaz: Well, here's more. ;)

sil: Okay. ;)

For the record, I'll probably be updating once a week – depends, also, on what my new beta, Jamieson Z, can manage. At the moment, I've written ahead of what I have posted, so posts should be pretty steady for a bit. :) 

Thanks, everyone, and I hope you review. ;) I love reviews.

**~*~*~**

The man was infuriating. He had been ever since Sandoval had first met him, and his first appraisal had changed little since then. Kincaid was arrogant, and he got away with far too much. Da'an had protected him ever since meeting him, and the fact that Sandoval couldn't figure out why grated at him. Then there was the fact he was a Resistance member - a high-ranking one, at that. Every time he had tried to trap the man, Kincaid had squirmed out. He screwed up his plans on a regular basis, having an uncanny knack for causing trouble. 

The fact that Sandoval felt like he was missing something obvious also grated at him. Either he wasn't being told something - and was totally unable to find anything out about it - or Kincaid's luck had held out to an astonishing degree. He had respected the man's abilities, of course. He recognized when someone was good at what he did. And Kincaid inspired loyalty in his friends and subordinates. He doubted Kincaid even realized he struck out at the Major so often because he was so frustrated. 

Then there was something about the way Kincaid acted. There was just something . . . off about it. Skewed and off-kilter. He responded in the most unexpected of ways at times, sometimes showing great naïveté and sometimes showing an understanding of the Taelons and their ways Sandoval could only wonder at. He knew things about them the Taelons had never told any human - at least not to Sandoval's knowledge, or that of his contacts. 

Kincaid had also always acted oddly around him. Sometimes he _seemed_ to want Sandoval's approval - he was pretty sure that wasn't it, simply because it was so unbelievable, especially someone Kincaid's age - and sometimes he seemed to enjoy needling Sandoval, deliberately making him angry. 

Sandoval had once thought that when the whole Taelon/Jaridian mess was over - when he had hoped it would be, one day, back then - he wouldn't have to worry about such things anymore. Then he had fallen ill, and discovered what was, to him, the most important secret he could imagine. 

His son. 

The revelation that his son was a hybrid had been shocking, but by that point he was so enamored with the idea of having a child - having a family - it had become an interesting sidenote in his musings about his son's life. It hadn't effected the way he thought of his son beyond that. Beyond wondering if he was okay, if he was an experiment, if he was being treated well . . . . 

He had nightmares about his son being taken to pieces by Taelon scientists, a little dark-haired boy, screaming. In the end, though, the worry become too much. He had to put it out of his mind in order to focus on his work, and promise himself later, that epoch later, that he would deal with it. And sometimes, when he was put in charge of some disgusting plot of Zo'or's, he would look at what he was doing and think, what would my son think of me doing this? 

He couldn't afford a conscience then. 

So the knowledge he had a son stayed on the backburner, so to speak, for several years. 

But now . . . well, now he _could_ think about it. It hadn't taken him long to add everything up that he had learned over the years, and use that knowledge, not for trying to save humanity from the selfish desires of the Taelons, but concerning his son. He made a list of people who would know of his son, assuming he was with the Resistance - as Kincaid had essentially just admitted to. Kincaid had been at the top of the list of those still alive, and he was also the most vulnerable. Ms. Palmer had too many contacts, too many friends in high places to be missed. But a former Companion Protector with anonymous and largely unknown ties to the Resistance . . . . 

Of course, he doubted he could get away with killing the man that easily, he had tried before and failed. But he could threaten him. He didn't want to leave a body lying around when he did find his son. Besides that, something told him he shouldn't kill Kincaid, and he trusted his instincts. 

All in all, it was a total mess. 

"Hey, Sandoval." Kincaid's voice interrupted his musings and remembrances. 

Sandoval looked up, glaring. Kincaid was blinking at him blearily, running a hand through his light brown hair. "Did you drug me?" Kincaid asked calmly. 

"No." Flat. Hostile. Oh wait, he had to prove he cared. Fantastic. 

Kincaid nodded. "You must have given me a concussion, then." He sighed, closing his eyes, and dropped into the chair Sandoval had tied him to. Sandoval stayed where he was, leaning against the kitchen counter, keeping both window and Kincaid in sight out of habit. He moved slightly, a nervous action to reassure him he still had his energy weapon tucked in his belt. 

"So what now?" Sandoval finally asked. 

Kincaid looked at him, unconcerned. "I don't know," he said at last, rubbing his chafed wrists. They were red with irritation. Sandoval hadn't bound him gently. 

Sandoval repressed his surge of irritation, wishing briefly he had just tortured the man. "This was your idea," he pointed out. 

"I know," Kincaid sighed. He let his head roll back, shutting his eyes. "Any suggestions?" 

"Major . . . ." 

Kincaid opened his eyes and looked at him, rubbing his neck. "Take me . . . to some place you've been," he said at last. 

"Major, I've been to a good number of places," Sandoval said with forced patience. 

"No, I mean - some place that mattered to you," Kincaid said, correcting himself. 

Sandoval stared at him suspiciously, hefting his energy weapon. "And how do I know that if I do so, you won't try to have me arrested for kidnapping or some other ridiculous charge?" 

Kincaid stared at him steadily for a few moments. "You have my word that I won't. On my mother's grave." Kincaid's eyes seemed to soften, losing their hard, matter-of-fact look, and a hint of sadness entered his eyes. 

It might have been a spectacular bit of acting, but Sandoval didn't think so. "Very well," he said, frowning briefly, and mentally chalking this whole situation up to another of those unexplainable occurrences that seemed to happen around Kincaid regularly. Kincaid demanding Sandoval show he cared in order to see his son . . . him actually agreeing, for goodness' sake. What the hell was he thinking? 

"I want to get this over with," Sandoval said, leaving the room with the intention of going to his car. "Let's go." 

**~*~*~**

Sandoval slammed the car door shut, watching Kincaid get out of the other side, looking around curiously. The location wasn't easily reached by portal, so driving was the only option. Sandoval had driven, and by the end of it, he had been wishing for a shuttle and shuttle pilot. Of course, he was no longer afforded such luxuries - most weren't, as the Taelons were no longer so active on Earth and the technology wasn't harnessed yet - but he could wish. 

Kincaid had the same thought, muttering at one point on the long trip, "What I wouldn't do for a shuttle." 

Sandoval hadn't replied, but absurdly it seemed like a glimpse at the real Kincaid, not the one who had managed to have Resistance ties and be a Companion Protector at the same time, juggling both positions as if he were loyal to one and not to the other. 

"What is this place?" Kincaid asked, looking at Sandoval. 

Sandoval didn't answer for a moment, turning his gaze on the simple house. It was old brick, the trimming stained wood. It wasn't a very big one, though it was two stories, and it was located on an old, narrow street in Wyoming. The drive had been a few hours - Sandoval hadn't realized it was so close to where Kincaid lived until he thought of it and checked his global. 

"It was my home," Sandoval finally answered. "With Deedee." 

Kincaid looked startled. "Do you still own it?" 

Sandoval nodded. He had bought it again after Deedee's death. He walked up the steep steps and took out a key, opening the door. And he stepped through. 

The stale air seemed heavy with memories. Him and Deedee, laughing, talking, arguing . . . Leaving in the morning to the new FBI office nearby. Moving out, eventually, for a promotion in another state. Deedee had been bitter about that - she wanted to have a family here. That was only the beginning of their problems, of course. When he become a Taelon Protector . . . that led to her suffering, and eventually, her death. 

He didn't know Kincaid was there until he touched Sandoval's arm gently. Sandoval jerked, glaring, meeting the Major's eyes, and saw only sympathy. 

"I'm sorry," Kincaid said quietly. 

In that moment, Sandoval wanted to strike him, for seeing this weakness. Sandoval had done what he did to Deedee because he couldn't afford weakness. But then, wasn't that what this trip was about? 

Sandoval turned away, sighing, forcing himself to think of his son. It would be worth it. 

"Did you live here long?" Kincaid voice floated from behind him as he stared at plastic covered furniture, footprints in the dust. 

"No," Sandoval said simply. "About a year," he added, remembering to be cooperative. "I got promoted and we had to move, not long after that. She wanted to stay . . . build a family." He turned around, to face the Major. 

Kincaid was looking down at a side table intensely. Sandoval looked at it, wondering why it had caught his attention. He remembered that table, of course - some of his happiest memories with Deedee had been around that table, one of their first pieces of furniture that they bought together. 

"Major." 

Kincaid looked up. 

"I've shown you something," Sandoval said quietly. "Do the same." 

Kincaid paused, turning away, face unreadable. After a moment, he faced Sandoval again. "Your son was never hurt by the Resistance," he said at last. "He was never a lab rat." 

Sandoval exhaled roughly. "And now?" 

Kincaid shook his head silently. He looked distracted, one of his fingers trailing the top of the table in an endless pattern. 

"Kincaid -" 

A sharp bleet from a global interrupted Sandoval. Kincaid checked his, as did Sandoval. 

"It's me," Kincaid said, opening the global. 

Sandoval fingered his weapon, feeling another glimmer of worry. 

"What is it?" Kincaid said into the screen. The person on the other line spoke, sounding rushed, but Sandoval couldn't make it out. When they deactivated his CVI, they had damaged most of it's benefits as well. Kincaid's reaction, however, told him all he needed to know - it was electric, instantaneous. The _expression on his face changed from calmness to shock to worry and fear. "I'll be there right away," he assured the person on the line, and shut the global. 

He looked up at Sandoval, the panicked expression fading into the cold, faintly arrogant control Sandoval was more familiar with. 

"What is it?" Sandoval asked shortly. 

"It's Renee. Someone tried to assassinate her," Kincaid said, a flash of worry appearing again. "Renee Palmer," he added, clarifying. "I'm sorry, she's in the hospital, I have to go -" 

Sandoval, for his part, was thinking as Kincaid babbled. Kincaid knew where his son was, and would tell him if he convinced the Major that he cared about his son. If Kincaid cared for Palmer as much as his reaction to the call indicated, then he was vulnerable concerning her. What better way to get close to the Major than to be with him? 

Grabbing his keys, Sandoval said as he passed Kincaid in the direction of the door, "I'm not letting you out of my sight. Let's go." 


	4. Part 4

CandyDawn: Thank you! :)

Dark Topaz: Here ya go. ;)

Sabrina: I'm trying to keep in mind all the ways he has been portrayed by the EFC writers. I think they made him a bit schizo, which is what's making this so hard. *silly* And I'm not trying to do anything to you – I'm succeeding. ;) And thank you.

jnp: I'm bad about cliffies. ;) But for the most part, I'm trying to keep each part the same length, roughly, though I might lengthen the posts gradually. Anyway, thank you. :)

Sammy: Thank you – I'm glad I've got Sandoval down. I'll always try to not make you wait – but I do have to wait on my beta. ;)

sil: Here ya go. ;)

Huge, massive thanks to Jamieson Z for beta'ing. :)

**~*~*~ **

They let Liam into the room easily, since he was listed as one of Renee's emergency contacts. Sandoval just glared at the doctor. For a moment, Liam had mused Sandoval hadn't lost any of his menace since becoming a private citizen once again.

All that and other considerations faded away when Liam saw her. It was a high-quality hospital, with each patient practically having their own suite, and the room was disguised, hardly recognizable as being in a hospital. But none of that could disguise her condition.

Beneath a healthy tan she was horribly pale. She was also very still, unnervingly so – it wasn't the stillness of readiness, that Renee had always gotten before a mission or some important, dangerous meeting, but stillness almost like that of death. Flashes from Sandoval's memories of war and death came into his mind, washing over him like a blanket of fear, and then he pushed them away, blinking. 

Never taking his eyes off Renee, he said quietly to the doctor in the room, "What's her condition?"

"Still critical, but stable," the doctor began matter-of-factly, gazing down at Renee with a look of simple analysis. "The energy blast got her abdomen, and it caused internal injuries that led to some organ failure. We've managed to repair most of that, but only time will tell if she's able to recover. We'll be watching her closely for the next forty-eight hours."

Liam nodded, and moved over to sit by the chair next to her bed. He distantly heard Sandoval dismissing the doctor. 

"I would be surprised if she didn't make it, Major. She's been through worse," Sandoval said at last. "It would be unfitting irony for her to die this way."

Liam looked over at him, surprised. He neither saw nor heard any cruelty or mockery in Sandoval's voice or expression, just a quiet reading of the situation. "Thank you," he said. 

There was about twenty minutes of silence before Sandoval spoke again. "I didn't know the two of you were involved. It certainly explains some things, however."

"What?" Liam said, startled, turning away from Renee's pale face. "We're not – I mean – we're not involved," he finished awkwardly.

"My apologies, then, Major. I do not usually read such things wrong," he said, not looking embarrassed by the misunderstanding at all. Liam could feel himself flushing. 

"Well, you didn't, not exactly," Liam admitted awkwardly. "We were friends, that much is true, and we tried to never let on to the fact." He shrugged, and looked at Renee again. "For obvious reasons."

"You worked together in the Resistence." 

"Yes, we did," Liam said simply.

He heard Sandoval shift, and then his father spoke. "Forgive my curiosity, but I was always curious exactly in what role you served within the Resistance. I suspected, even then, that it was more than a simple spy. I know that was the case with Ms. Palmer."

Liam looked at him, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at Sandoval, who stood leaning against the wall opposite him. It was difficult even looking at Renee. Sandoval looked at him calmly with dark eyes, and the steady sound of Renee's heartbeat on the monitor was the only thing that split the silence. 

"I was a spy at first," Liam said finally, fairly sure Sandoval was looking for answers now because Liam was in a state where maneuvering was the farthest thing from his mind. "But later . . . no. You were correct in your assumption that I was a high-ranking member."

Sandoval nodded silently.

Neither spoke after that. Quiet fell in the way it always does, sneaking in unobserved. Liam struggled to remember things he didn't entirely understand, things he had done without knowing how. And how he could do them now. Sandoval thought about who knew what, and it hardly mattered to Liam right then.

The silence didn't feel like an uncomfortable silence, and when Sandoval finally left to go and get something to eat, both were calm about the fact.

Liam, in the meantime, watched Renee and thought.

***~*~* **

When Sandoval walked into the room, Kincaid didn't even twitch from his position by Ms. Palmer's side. He wasn't even sure the man had moved since he left. 

"What did you find out?" Kincaid asked.

"Excuse me?"

Kincaid sat up straight, stretching slightly, keeping his eyes on Ms. Palmer's still face. "I'm sure you went and investigated what happened to Renee. Out of simple habit if nothing else." He looked calm, in control. Apparently the time Sandoval had been gone had been enough for him to come to grips with the situation.

Sandoval didn't even feel like glaring at the Major. He just raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Yes, I did. They've already caught her attacker, and believe they know who is behind it. Her security team seems fairly competent. I expect they'll find out who was behind it and take action relatively soon."

Kincaid nodded. "They told me I should leave soon, let her get uninterrupted rest."

Sandoval snorted. "They always say that."

Kincaid shot him a small, grateful smile. "That's true. I think she'll be okay, though, and there's nothing more I can do here."

"You find it unnerving," Sandoval said quietly.

"Yes," Kincaid replied, looking startled. He glanced at Sandoval, who was expressionless.

"Come on," Sandoval said. He wanted to talk to Kincaid. The Major wasn't the only one who had had time to think. "Let's get something to eat. And I want to talk to you." He glanced at Ms. Palmer again. She looked considerably better than she had two hours ago.

Kincaid nodded slowly, and they left, the steady beeping slowly fading away.

**~*~*~ **

Liam followed Sandoval, musing it was a good thing he had come along when he did – the doctors were about ready to throw him out. Liam had had to pretend innocence and stupidity about cutting diagnostic readings from Renee's monitors to their central nurse station. He had to do it, though – he didn't want them realizing what he was doing. His shaquarava had helped Renee's recovery along tremendously, but he didn't want them realizing it was him who had done it to her. 

Regardless, he was fairly sure she was safe now. He had experienced a period of dormancy with his shaquarava, but that had ended even before the Taelons and Jaridians united. He was gaining more and more control over his abilities, and felt fairly secure in helping Renee's healing along. 

The rest – that Sandoval had found out on his own – had been largely inconsequential in immediate terms until Liam knew Renee would make it, and Sandoval's discoveries led Liam to believe that the assassin and related parties would be dealt with. He itched to do something, but more likely than not he would be in the way. He didn't have the resources he used to have.

Besides, Liam knew Sandoval wanted to talk, again, about his son. Liam was as unsure as ever what to say – he'd have to wing it. 

Sandoval made Liam sit and wait in the hospital cafeteria, quickly returning from the counter with a sandwich and soda. He hadn't bought anything for himself, and Liam distantly remembered he had already gotten something to eat. His mind kept fuzzing out and returning to how Renee had looked when he first saw her, and with Sandoval, that was never a good thing. He had to keep his wits.

After Liam had picked at his food for a few moments – after, of course, getting the idea that it might have been poisoned and then immediately discarding the notion – Sandoval broke the quiet between them. 

"I was always curious," Sandoval began, "what role you played, exactly."

_Of course,_ Liam thought. _He_ _wants to pick my brains. And this is the time to do it. _

"What role in what?" Liam asked.

"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Major," Sandoval said with forced patience, the intensity of his gaze proportional to how much he narrowed his eyes. 

_Wing it,_ Liam thought. "I had my hand in a lot of things, Sandoval," he said calmly, picking at the bread of sandwich. Little seeds were being collected on his napkin.

Sandoval folded his hands in front of him. "Why did you save my life?"

Liam looked up, startled, dropping a seed. 

"With my son's blood," Sandoval added. "The other times – it's easy to understand, because it would have looked suspicious otherwise, as it was your duty, but the blood . . . you could have killed me, your enemy, by doing nothing." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "It was your decision to make, was it not?"

"Yes," Liam said reluctantly, trying to figure out how to not lie and not tell the truth either. "I believed you had further use."

Sandoval looked skeptical. "To the Resistance? You had no way of knowing what I was trying to do –"

"In a less ethical way than the Resistance, but still the same thing?" Liam interrupted. "With added benefits for yourself, of course. I didn't know, but I had – suspicions, shall we say," Liam interrupted, leaning forward, the seed pile growing rapidly. He could see Sandoval struggling to repress his first response, which would probably be something acidly sarcastic. 

"Added benefits? I –" Sandoval began angrily, then stopped, taking a calming breath.

Liam paused his picking of seeds. "You just didn't trust anyone else, did you?" he asked, looking into Sandoval's dark eyes. "To do what needed to be done."

"How could you have guessed anything at that point, Major?" Sandoval asked, not answering.

"I had my sources," Liam said breezily. Which was true, from a certain point of view. 

Sandoval looked at him, and said laconically, "I see."

 "Tell me," Liam said, and resumed the picking seeds from the bread. He was quickly running out on one side, and flipped the sandwich over. "Was that the reason?"

"Why do you ask?"

Liam shrugged. "It speaks towards your motivations for your actions, which speaks for –"

"I get the idea, Major," Sandoval cut him off. "That was part of it," he said after a few moments. 

Liam nodded slowly, and picked a seed.

"May I ask a question now?" Sandoval said, with clear, limited patience.

"About your son?"

Sandoval nodded. "Does he . . . know of me?"

That made Liam pause, go completely still. How to answer that question? Sandoval saw it, and Liam saw him tense. "Yes, he does," Liam said at last. 

"How much?" Sandoval asked quietly.

Liam met his eyes. "Pretty much everything the Resistance ever knew," he said, with equal quiet. _Oh yes_, Liam thought, _I know of your crimes, done for yourself and humanity. _

Sandoval closed his eyes briefly, and Liam could almost feel his controlled anguish.

"He's – a mature kid. Hybrids grow fast," Liam said impulsively. "He – I don't think he always understands, but he doesn't hate you."

"You know him that well?" Sandoval said fiercely, eyes wide open now and searching Liam's face. 

_Oops_, Liam thought. "I get reports."

Sandoval looked ready to ask another question. Liam picked a seed. 

"Would you stop that?" Sandoval burst out in frustration, totally unexpectedly from Liam's point of view, glaring at Liam's pile of seeds. "Picking at your food like that – I used to do that as a child, and _I grew out of it."_

Liam looked at the pile of rye seeds with new eyes. _Dammit. "I think I'm going to go see Renee," he said simply. _

Sandoval sighed. "Major –"

"I have to know Renee is all right first, before we can continue with this," Liam pressed. That was true, as far as it went. He had to be absolutely certain. Right now he was only pretty sure. And he thought the both of them needed a break. 

Sandoval gave reluctant acquiescence. "Very well. I have other business to attend to, if you don't mind."

"I don't," Liam said, shaking his head and rising to his feet. Sandoval did the same. Liam trusted Sandoval enough to let him out of his sight, after all. Sandoval, for that matter, could have just wandered off without telling Liam. They were both dedicated to following this through, it seemed to Liam. Where the end would be . . . who knew?

Sandoval nodded briskly. "You know how to contact me."  
  



	5. Part 5

Sabrina: Thank you. :)

Candy Dawn: Sorry it took me a while to get this up – and that it's short. I have a story ending soon, hopefully that'll help me focus on this. ;) And thank you. :)

jnp: Thank you! I'm really trying to keep with the feel the show had. And writing Liam and Renee interacting is fun. :)

sil: I intend on making it very interesting. ;) And thank you.

Emely Raines: Thank you! I'm proud of the seed thing, myself. ;) It was cool. And yep, Liam didn't know what to do. And I'm glad I'm doing Sandy well. He's probably the most out-right complex character. 

Sorry for how long it took to update, I'll try to avoid that in the future. Also, this is short. :p As always, thanks to my beta, Jamieson Z.

***~*~***

When Liam entered the hospital room, it was to see that Renee was awake. He stopped at the door, and looked at the scene for a moment. Renee, pale and weak, expression fierce and her words even more so, glowering at the doctor who blundered along, never knowing he didn't have a chance. 

Her blue eyes caught his. "Liam!"

The doctor looked flustered, and absently fooled with his eyeglasses. 

"Out," Renee said, waving at the doctor. He frowned at her, then gave up, leaving and giving Liam a dirty look. "He was refusing to contact you, giving me this crap about 'undisturbed rest'."

Liam smiled. "How are you doing?" he asked, walking over and sitting in the lone chair next to her bed.

She raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a look that spoke eloquently of what she thought of that question. "I suspect you know better than I," she said, giving him another look, with more demand this time. 

Liam's mouth twitched. Here she was, lying in bed, weak from an attack, and yet – she was still Renee. "True," he admitted. 

Renee nodded, satisfied with that response. "Any news on the attempt?" 

_Attempt on your _life, Liam thought, his heart suddenly beating fast at the thought. "Sandoval said your security team already caught your attacker, and they're well on the way to finding out who was behind it. Doesn't look very professional – at least, not to the degree you and I are used to."

"Wait – Sandoval? What does that bastard have to do with this?" Renee said, half-rising, and then obeying her body's demand to lay back down with a wince.

Liam hovered for a minute, fingers itching to do something, but answered her question instead. "Nothing."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "Tell me what happened."

It was Liam's turn to wince. "He, well . . . he came to my cabin, knocked me out, and demanded to know where his son was."

"What?" Renee gasped, and had to lay back down again. 

"We came to an agreement," Liam continued, and then shook his head, explaining more thoroughly. "He knows his son is a hybrid, and I think he suspects a Taelon one, at that. I haven't gotten all the details. He thinks the Taelons made him, and the Resistance captured him."

Renee digested this. "And what did you say?"

Liam sighed. "What could I do? He was about to kill me. So . . . I told him if he could convince me he would have cared for his son – not turned him over the Taelons, or something – that I would take him to his kid." _Who doesn't exist, Liam thought. __Not like he thinks._

"That was stupid," Renee said simply, shutting her eyes and pushing back her blond hair. A glint of tired suspicion showed in her face, though. She probably realized that Liam was, in a sense, finding out if he even wanted to know his father, and might even suspect he had tried that way out with Sandoval for that very reason.

"Yes, well." Liam spread his hands. "What would you have done?"

She held out her hand, and Liam took it in both of his, running his thumb over her knuckles. She squeezed his hand. "I don't know," she admitted. "But you're in a messy situation now. At this point, Sandoval's death would raise too many questions, and he's probably planned for it – no, don't sigh at me. I don't care if he was doing some of the things he did for humanity, he's still a criminal in my eyes."

"I'll just have to wing it. I'm practiced at that now, anyway," Liam said with a faint smile.

Renee nodded slightly. "Regardless . . ."

"It's not your problem," Liam said, "but thanks anyway." He paused again. Now that Renee had her curiosity satisfied, maybe he could ask what he really wanted to talk about. "So, how _are you feeling?"_

Renee grimaced. "I ache. I imagine it would be worse if not for you and the pain drugs."

"You know . . . you probably should have undisturb –" Liam began, eyes lowered.

Renee slapped his hand. "Shut up," she said with a smile, a genuine one.

Liam smiled back, some ache he hadn't known existed slowly easing. 

***~*~***

Sandoval didn't pause when he walked by Ms. Palmer's door. Doing so would have been conspicuous. Instead, he glanced in, memorizing and analyzing everything he saw in that brief moment. He already had access to the floor from when he went with Kincaid to visit Ms. Palmer – wisely insisting that he not be left behind – and that gave him the opportunity now to look at Kincaid unobserved. 

What he saw was Ms. Palmer, awake, looking with an almost loving expression into Kincaid's eyes, who was holding and stroking her hand. And they weren't involved? Maybe that was another thing Sandoval could play on. Romantics wanted everyone else to be happy, after all, though Kincaid and Ms. Palmer were hardly typical romantics.

And perhaps . . . perhaps by being sympathetic, understanding, and telling stories of his own wife and his love for her, he could get Kincaid to trust him more. And tell him where his son was. Finding his son was becoming a desperate, constant motivation for his every action. He had a son, and that boy was his only family. To know him, to love him . . . was becoming a desperate need. He had no other concerns, not anymore, to fill his time and distract him away from the knowledge that he had a son. Sandoval had always wished for children, for some connection beyond that of colleague.

And anyway, it would be easier now to get Kincaid to trust him; he didn't detest the man quite so much anymore, after seeing him with Ms. Palmer. He was seeing hints of Kincaid without that arrogant mask, and Kincaid was even being cooperative in satisfying Sandoval's curiosity. Though, that smirk of Kincaid's that he got when he knew something and Sandoval didn't was still irritating beyond belief.

Regardless, things were going well. Hope, a thing so often repressed in Sandoval's life, sprang to being. And for a moment, he smiled.


	6. Part 6

Sammy: Thank you! I love'em too, they're interesting to write. ;) My apologies the update took so long.

Candy Dawn: True. :p Hopefully you'll like this – and it's a bit longer, though it took a while to get here. I'm glad you're enjoying, and thank you. :)

Sorry this took so long! I hope to have this wrapped up in about another two chapters. :) Many thanks to Jamieson for beta'ing. :D

***~*~***

"You _will_ keep me updated?" It was phrased as if it were a question, but Liam knew better. 

"Yes, I will," Liam said firmly. "And now you should rest," he added. "Even with my healing, you need to regain your strength." 

Renee looked at him crossly, but replied calmly, "Yes, I know that." Even though their talk had been brief, Liam noted that she looked even paler than before, and she wasn't being quite so spirited as usual. She was tired, even if she would not willingly admit it. She would have to catch up on giving him grief later, he supposed.

"I'll keep an eye on everything," Liam assured her yet again. Her hand lay loosely in his, and he absentmindedly moved his thumb over her knuckles. 

"And who will keep an eye on you?" Renee muttered, shutting her eyes briefly, but a smile touched the corners of her lips.

Liam chose not to answer that one. "I'll have someone send your global to you, in case you need anything the doctors are . . . less than thrilled about." 

Renee gave him a full-out smile that said 'good boy'. "Good."

Liam paused momentarily, knowing it was time to say goodbye, and yet not quite knowing how. A simple 'see you later' just didn't seem right. "I'll be back, okay?" he murmured. 

Renee nodded. 

Liam smiled. Seized by an odd, definitely human impulse, he took the hand he held and lightly kissed it – then immediately released her hand and rose before she could react.

She favored him with an uplifted eyebrow and an unreadable expression. Then she smiled, a bit uncertainly.

Liam flushed, smiled, and quickly left the room.

***~*~***

The 'other business' had been Sandoval's attempts to check up on Kincaid's personal life. It was dismal failure. Kincaid was utterly blank. He didn't know a single personal thing about the man beyond what was loosely and vaguely talked about in his files – and he couldn't find anything out, either. He had no family, few friends that Sandoval knew of, and Sandoval had never bothered to try to get to know the man before this.

Regardless, when Kincaid contacted Sandoval to let him know he had visited Ms. Palmer, the man looked calmer and much more settled, as Sandoval had suspected he would. Maybe Sandoval would have to do all this the hard way, but figure it out he would. And he would meet his son.

Besides, Kincaid was making things easier by having them meet in his apartment in a few hours. He wanted to speak with the security team going after Renee's assassin and deal with that situation before they met again, something Sandoval understood.

Kincaid's apartment was located the same place that Sandoval remembered – above the Flat Planet Café. Considering the bar was a haven of sorts for Resistance members – not surprising, especially given it's ownership and name – Sandoval had always thought it odd that Kincaid lived there. Mostly because he did suspect Kincaid of being a Resistance member, and he couldn't understand why the man virtually flouted the fact by living where he did. 

Yet another exasperating mystery.

When he arrived, Kincaid was already there, and he answered the door. 

"Hello," Kincaid said with a quick smile, and then let Sandoval in.

Sandoval immediately eyed the apartment, hoping for a few more clues to the man's basic personality. The first thing he noticed was that the place was spartan and eclectic. There were very few personal items – certainly nowhere near clutter. Everything was organized, but not fanatically so – a few things were out of place, like a book on the table. The small bookcase was full of books that were well taken care of, but they were not in order. 

The black marble table/bar that separated the kitchen and living room had a few papers on it and a folder. The bedroom appeared to be upstairs, on a open second floor. Sandoval immediately noted the place not only had several places to hide, but good spots to take a defensive position from. The clean lines of everything indicated expensive style, but then the floor looked like concrete painted black – hardly attractive. 

In short, it was a confusing mix of everything, like several people lived there. Contradicting each other. Just like Liam Kincaid. 

He watched Kincaid wander over the black leather couch in the living room, and he reluctantly followed.

Kincaid sprawled in a relaxed manner, and gazed up at Sandoval with studying eyes that showed no uncertainty or stress whatsoever. Whatever emotional burdens or distractions had been placed on him by Ms. Palmer's situation, they were gone now. 

Kincaid loosely gestured at a high-tech desk chair set incongruously in the living room, with no desk nearby. Sandoval slowly sat down. They both looked at each for a moment. Kincaid was unreadable, as Sandoval knew himself to be at that moment. 

"So," Kincaid began. "Assuming I take you to your son, what then?"

Sandoval blinked. "What do you mean, 'what then'?"

Kincaid looked at him intently. "Well, would you want to keep him? To raise, that is," he clarified.

"If he is amenable," Sandoval cautiously. And even young enough, Sandoval thought, remembering his son was hybrid. "Of course," he added suspiciously, "that all depends on what propaganda your people have been feeding him."

"Kind of like with the Volunteers?" Kincaid asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

Sandoval decided not to respond to that, and merely glared at Kincaid.

Kincaid evidently didn't expect answer, because he didn't wait long. "Why?"

"Why what?" Sandoval said, blinking, feeling he was somehow missing the current of the conversation. 

"Why do you want to take care of him?"

"He's my son," Sandoval said simply. 

"Even though he's a hybrid?" Kincaid asked, still studying him with that detached expression. 

"There is no 'even though' about it," Sandoval gritted out. "All considering, I would expect the Resistance to have more trouble with him being a hybrid."

Kincaid looked uncomfortable on that, and Sandoval realized he'd hit upon something. 

"Did they have a problem with it?" Sandoval pressed. 

Kincaid just looked at him.

"Major . . ." 

"He's with people who care for him as we speak," Kincaid said, shaking his head. Apparently finding something wrong with what he said, he winced slightly and shot Sandoval an unreadable look. 

Sandoval leaned back warily. Kincaid did the same. They shared another cautious gaze. 

"Why won't you take me to him?" Sandoval suddenly asked. "Why go through all this – what can it hurt? My power is weakened to virtual non-existence since the Taelons fell from grace. I couldn't do anything to him, or you – not really."

"You still have your contacts – assassins, spies, who knows what else," Kincaid replied instantly, no hesitation in his manner. "So yes, you could still be a threat to him."

"You think I would assassinate my own son?" 

Kincaid shook his head, laughing hollowly. "I'm not sure what you're capable of, Sandoval. That's what this is about."

Sandoval rose, frustrated. He felt Kincaid's eyes follow him, but he ignored it. He paced into the small kitchen – more of a kitchenette, really – and stared blankly at nothing. He was aware his jaw was working, and his anger showed by that, but he didn't really care. Kincaid didn't speak, and eventually Sandoval calmed. He braced himself against the black marble island. 

The papers were, Sandoval realized, the contracts for the cabin Sandoval had kidnapped Kincaid from. Among that, though, was a letter that had 'Liam' scrawled on it. 

Sandoval picked it up. That gained Kincaid's attention, and he rose and walked over to Sandoval. 

Sandoval looked at him inquisitively, and handed him the envelope. Kincaid took it, looking surprised. "That's yours?" Sandoval asked blandly.

Kincaid blinked at it. "Apparently." Moving slightly away from Sandoval, he opened the envelope and took out the few papers that were inside, quickly flipping through them – so fast Sandoval figured he was probably only skimming, not fully reading. Sandoval wondered why the Major wasn't alarmed by the fact someone had entered his apartment without his knowledge – did he give the access codes to friends?

After a minute, Kincaid lowered his hands, still clutching the paper, looking surprised.

"Major?"

Kincaid looked at him, blue eyes a bit glazed in thought. Silently, he efficiently crunched up the paper and threw it into the trash.

"You ever heard of Operation Blackbird, Sandoval?" Kincaid asked calmly, his back to Sandoval, walking away towards the couch.

As such, he missed – deliberately so? – the frozen look on Sandoval's face. 

"That was from a friend of mine," Kincaid added, falling into the couch again. "He thought I might find it interesting." He looked at Sandoval calmly, hands loosely folded in front of him.

_No doubt Augur_, Sandoval thought. And the information in untraceable paper. "I may have heard of it," Sandoval said cautiously, following Kincaid to the living room.

"Hmm," Kincaid said. He leaned forward, looking down, but Sandoval nevertheless got the impression that he was watching him. "Well, just in case, let me spell it out for you. The Taelons – unsurprisingly – had secret operation going. One that involved children and genetic manipulation. Not combination of DNA, no," he added with grimace, "but just an effort to make human children better soldiers."

Sandoval said nothing, he merely narrowed his eyes and forced down the apprehension he felt – along with the glimmer of hope. 

"When the Taelons and the Jaridians finally made peace, it become defunct, naturally – but it's progenitors decided to keep it going." He cocked his head, still not looking at Sandoval. 

How did he read all that so quickly? Sandoval thought. 

"That didn't last for long, though." Kincaid gazed at Sandoval again, and Sandoval wondered briefly, inanely, if he was looking for guilt in Sandoval's eyes. He would find none. "Someone found out about it – or, perhaps, merely realized that was the time to take action." He paused. "According to the information I received, the heads of the program suffered for quite some time before dying." 

Sandoval waited, body totally still. His friends in the FBI had called it his hunter stance – because he looked like he was about to strike. The stillness before an attack, the quiet before dawn.

"And all that happened . . . after the pardons were granted," Kincaid added. "Not that anyone would blame whoever," Kincaid met Sandoval's eyes, "did it, but the torture and the means – well."

"Quit the petty games, Major," Sandoval snapped. They both knew Sandoval could go to prison for anything committed after his pardon date. "What is your point? You obviously know it was me."

Kincaid nodded slightly. "Yes," he said softly. "Everything pointed in that direction. Ruthless even now, aren't you?"

"You said yourself those men deserved it," Sandoval replied stiffly. 

"So I did. So I did," Kincaid muttered, gazing down again.

Sandoval suffered from a surfeit of impatience. "And?"

"I need to think," Kincaid said, a slight frown appearing on his face. 

"Think?" Sandoval said scathingly. 

As usual, Kincaid hardly reacted to his tone, just his words. "Yes. I won't turn you in, I promise you that, but I need to think."

Kincaid's attempt at reassurance was hardly successful. What did the man have to think about? Unless – he felt this changed the situation having to do with Sandoval's son. Sandoval realized with a surge of fear that he had no way of predicting how Kincaid would react – not that he had ever had such skill, but more often than not he had been in the position of power and hadn't had to worry about it. He cursed himself for a fool.

"Very well, Major. Do you want me to leave?"

"Doesn't matter," Kincaid said in a distracted tone. "I need to go talk to someone. About the situation," Kincaid hurriedly added. 

Sandoval nodded warily.

***~*~***

"Liam! Good to see you, I was bored out of my wits," Renee said, throwing her global onto a side table. She was no longer so pale after a few hours of rest – there was a little color in her cheeks and she seemed more energetic. As Renee tossed the global, Liam got a glimpse of the screen – it looked vaguely like a report.

"I thought you would be resting," Liam said, amused, sitting down in the single chair beside the bed. 

"I did rest," Renee said repressively, dismissing Liam's concern with a quick look and a smile. Her eyes narrowed. "Where's Sandoval?"

Liam didn't answer her question, instead asking one of his own. "You had Augur check up on Sandoval, didn't you?"

"You got information from him?" 

"Yes," Liam said with a nod. "In a letter, of all things." 

A small crease appeared between her eyebrows. "A paper letter?"

Liam nodded. "To make it untraceable and easily destroyed, I suppose."

Renee blinked. "What was in it?" 

"Why don't you tell me?" Liam said, trying not to be sidetracked.

"I don't know, Liam. I asked Augur to check out Sandoval's activities and send you what he found, but that was it."

"But you asked for a copy," Liam said, only seeking confirmation. 

Renee smiled. "What was the information? I'm surprised Sandoval would try anything that Augur could find in only a few hours."

"Yes, well . . ." Liam fidgeted. 

Renee waited with unusual patience.

"It appears," Liam said at last, "that Sandoval can act without selfish motivations."

Renee folded her arms as her eyebrows lifted. "Well, this I have to hear," she stated.

In a few minutes with tersely worded sentences, Liam explained what Augur had found. Renee's surprise was palpable, much as Liam's had been. Liam, of course, had some of his father's memories – bits and pieces here and there. He wasn't surprised that Sandoval was capable of doing something like what he had done – both aspects, the moral and the way he had done it – but he hadn't expected it given Sandoval's actions over the past few years. But he rather thought he shouldn't be surprised. Just over one day, he had found many of his preconceptions about Sandoval's actions with the Taelons and the Jaridians to be incorrect, not to mention his reaction to questions or facts Liam would have not anticipated him even caring about.

Renee correctly guessed what Liam was thinking. "You think this changes everything, don't you? You're actually considering telling him what he wants to know . . . because in a sense, he's starting to prove what you asked him to prove."

Liam didn't answer, ducking his eyes and not meeting Renee's gaze.

Renee apparently didn't expect him to, because she hardly paused. "None of that changes what he did."

"What about us? We did things less than moral in our fight, too," Liam pointed out. "I'm not excusing it, but . . . I'm understanding. And I did make an agreement." He sighed.

"Liam . . ." Renee paused, and laughed shortly. "You are so optimistic. You try to see the good in everyone, and frankly, I think sometimes you do so when it's not worth the effort."

"Such as Sandoval," Liam stated with a sigh. 

"I don't mean to say you're wrong," Renee half-amended, concern in her eyes. "You've certainly been right a few times." Neither one had to mention the Jaridians or Taelons.

Liam looked down at his hands, palms facing upward. "That had more to do with these," he muttered. "I was rather embittered with Da'an by that point, anyway."

Renee paused. "You want to hope," she said softly.

"I suppose I do," Liam said quietly. "I know what he was; I don't know what he has become. What little of his memories I can access . . . they don't matter for much in this."

"Liam," Renee said, gaining Liam's attention. When his eyes met hers, she continued. "I can't believe I'm saying this . . . but go and do what you feel you have to. I'll be here. And if necessary –" she paused meaningfully. "The repercussions of a little accident probably wouldn't be so bad." She said it deadpan, half joking and half serious.

Liam laughed. "Renee –"

She took one of his hands, turning the palm down. "I may be in a hospital bed, but I still have my sources," she proclaimed matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," Liam said softly. For a moment, he looked at Renee as he was suddenly struck by their conversation – by them being together. They had united out of a common goal – if not methods – and little else. They had fought with each other, occasionally lied, and generally schemed as everyone had in those times. Still, Liam had eventually seen something in Renee that made him truly respect her, as he had with so few. And here they were, still friends when it was all over, and uniting them – naught a single thread but themselves. 

"Surely I don't look that wan," Renee remarked. 

Liam smiled. "You? Absolutely not."

Renee's eyes narrowed slightly, not in irritation, but in thought. "What is going in that alien mind of yours?"

"Something hardly alien," Liam replied cryptically. "Thank you," he said again. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Hardly anyone does."


	7. Part 7 complete

I'm not allowed to respond here anymore, and with finals coming up I don't have time anyway, but I wanted to thank all the readers of this story, and apologize profusely for taking so long to finish it. It's not exactly how I wanted it, and in hindsight I should have written the entire thing differently, but hopefully it'll satisfy those that I've tortured with its WIPness. Not beta'ed, though, and as my writing style has changed over time, you might notice a shift. The ending is … purposely ambiguous, I guess. It actually wasn't an attempt to make it shorter, I just want to be clear – I'd planned it out this way, roughly, since a year or so ago. But hey! I said I'd finish it, and I did!

Feedback is always appreciated, and apologies once again.

* * *

The Taelon enclave on Earth was typical of Taelon buildings – beautiful, blue, and alive. It was larger than the embassies had been, reaching farther into the sky and spread over a greater area. Next to it, smaller, but more intimidating in sharp angles and harsh green, was the Jaridian enclave. Of course, these were only the enclaves on Earth; there were more spread throughout the galaxy, on the Taelon and Jaridian homeworlds. While there weren't many Taelons or Jaridians, their children were growing in number.

Of course, most of those children got a nice course in Humanity as well. As the species that saved their race – providing the crucial link between the two races – humans were very involved in everything. It also kept down fears that while neither the Taelons or Jaridians were strong enough to attack or subjugate humanity, their children might be one day.

But that was one day. Today, Liam was going to see Da'an.

Da'an was one of the Taelons that had chosen to stay on Earth for their remainder of their lives. As much as Da'an loved his homeworld, Earth had become important to him, and so he stayed. He also felt there was still important work to do, that humanity's importance had not lessened at all. Most other Taelons once involved in Earth switched between Earth and their homeworld, rather than choosing one or the other. Attitudes towards Earth and human beings had mellowed over time.

Da'an greeted Liam with a half nod and that strange, alien smile, then gave the Taelon greeting. "It is good to see you, Liam."

"Same," Liam said simply.

"What is it that you wish to discuss?" Da'an queried.

Liam shot him a sharp look. "How do you – never mind," he finished with a sigh. "Sandoval wants to know about his son."

"I see," Da'an said, fingers stilling for a moment.

"I told him I would bring him to his son if he convinced me he wouldn't hurt him."

"Then you have promised?" Knowing how seriously Liam took giving his word, probably.

"Yes," Liam said. He paused, looking away briefly. "Renee thinks that I said that because I do really want him to know. She hasn't said so, but I can tell she's thinking it."

"Do you believe Ms. Palmer is correct?"

Liam smiled wryly. "Maybe."

"If you wish my advice, I do not believe telling Sandoval your true identity is out of the question. Such an exploration might also be beneficial to you," Da'an added.

Liam cocked his head. "Why do you say that?"

"Isolating yourself will not help you deal with your Kimera heritage. I know you believe it no longer important; I disagree. The knowledge you possess as a Kimera hybrid will always be valuable. I believe by exploring your nature, you can better tap into that information." Da'an paused and added gently, "And be at peace. The war has ended, the conflict continues."

Liam stared at Da'an for a few long moments. "I know I can't hide. I just want to rest," he said softly.

Da'an stepped closer to him. "I know. But you ultimately may find more rest in finding yourself and resolving these issues that concern you."

Liam closed his eyes. "So what is your suggestion? That I tell Sandoval?"

"That you resolve it for both him and you," Da'an said. "What that may require, I do not know. You are more familiar with human interaction than I." Another pause. "Ms. Palmer may prove helpful, as well. You are still close, are you not?"

"Yes," Liam said, thinking. Wondering what Da'an was getting at. Taelons could definitely speak in riddles when they pleased; he would have to think about this. Da'an may still be trying to maneuver Liam into something having to do with his Kimera heritage, which the Taelon was still highly interested in. "Thank you, Da'an."

"You are welcome."

* * *

Coming to Kincaid's apartment unexpectedly was a good idea.

Kincaid looked . . . unsettled, Sandoval decided.

That was probably a good thing. Kincaid was usually a complete mystery, so having him unsettled could possibly help Sandoval see through that barrier.

"I wasn't expecting you," Kincaid said, no surprise in his voice or face.

"I can see that," Sandoval said wryly, noting that Kincaid was fully dressed and had a coat on.

Kincaid glanced down at himself and grimaced. Then he stepped to the side, gesturing for Sandoval to come in.

"Have you decided?" Sandoval asked bluntly.

Kincaid glanced at Sandoval, then plopped onto his couch. "No."

"Major . . ."

Kincaid merely looked at Sandoval. The unsettled demeanor had faded, and he was in control once more.

Sandoval sat opposite Kincaid on a chair. "How did you keep your identity as a Resistance agent secret?"

Kincaid blinked, looking startled.

Sandoval wanted to smile in satisfaction, but shifted his gaze to be more direct and intense.

Then Kincaid answered his question. "Da'an knew." He smiled smugly.

Sandoval could only stare at the Major in surprise. Da'an _knew_? Then Da'an not telling the other Taelons was virtually treason; was that even possible within the Commonality? But no wonder Da'an had always been so protective of Kincaid; suspicions didn't matter, because Da'an knew the truth and was actively hiding it. Why? More damnable mystery.

"Zo'or didn't," Sandoval finally said, voice flat.

Kincaid shook his eyes, eyes going dark. "No. It would have been . . . disastrous if he had."

"He would have had you arrested."

"Worse, probably," Kincaid said matter-of-factly. "But I suppose you would know."

Sandoval narrowed his eyes. A reference to the dirty work he did for Zo'or; was that a hint that taking down Operation Blackbird wasn't enough? That Kincaid had already decided?

As if reading his mind, Kincaid continued. "I haven't made up my mind yet, Sandoval. You can leave the weapon in your jacket," he said wryly.

"Was Ms. Palmer involved?" Sandoval said, deciding to take this at another angle.

Kincaid didn't answer for a moment.

"I don't intend on telling anyone else. My days in that game are long over. This is so that I can understand what happened," Sandoval said, almost gently.

"She was," Kincaid said finally.

Sandoval nodded. "I thought so. You spent too much together on your off time, and then acted too much like strangers the rest of the time."

Kincaid blinked. "Did we? I always thought we were careful."

"You were," Sandoval said simply. "Just not enough." He paused. Added, "Actually, for a time I believed you were having an affair and that was the cause of at least some of your secrecy."

"An affair?" Kincaid blurted, then laughed. Then he sighed deeply and put his head in his hands. "We were close." He looked up and cocked his head. "You must have suspected me, even if you couldn't prove it."

"Of course," Sandoval said. "But regardless of that, there was still opportunity for personal entanglements – and that could reasonably be exploited."

Kincaid said nothing, merely stared at Sandoval with a thoughtful expression on his face. Then he finally murmured, "Yes, you're right." He paused, seemed to shake himself out of his fugue, and asked, "And Renee? Did you think you could use me against her, as well?"

_Odd question_, Sandoval thought. _I could swear … Surely not._ "Perhaps. Though she always struck me as being attuned to the realities of life than you, Major."

Kincaid's mouth quirked into a smile, as if Sandoval had said something amusing. Then he nodded, more to himself.

Sandoval watched him, judging him, trying to ascertain what was going through Kincaid's head. If there was anything here he could use.

"We used to fight about that. I suppose I was idealistic," Kincaid said at last, and Sandoval was startled by the openness, the relaxed look in his eyes.

"Are you still?" Sandoval asked, and wondered if that was in his favor.

"I … yes," he said at last, and it was surprising he would give such unequivocated answer. "You know, even if I do tell you about your son, it won't ever be simple. Or easy."

"I know," Sandoval said quietly. "But he's my family nonetheless."

"And is blood thicker than water?"

Sandoval hesitated, torn between being truthful and getting the desired reaction. "Sometimes," he allowed. "Does he hate me—my son?"

Kincaid looked away. "I think it's not that easy."

"That's not an answer."

"He's not a child. There is no answer," Kincaid retorted, meeting his gaze with a glare.

"Not a child? You said hybrids grow faster … are you speaking literally?" Sandoval pressed, and knew as soon as he spoke, as soon as he saw the wariness in Kincaid's eyes, that he had pushed too far.

"I haven't –"

But it was time to push, Sandoval concluded, a sick feeling in his gut. "Decide, Kincaid. I'm not magically going to become a boy scout; you know enough of me."

Kincaid stared at the floor. "All right." He took a deep breath, and clasped his hands in front of him, staring at his palms like they held the secrets of the universe. "All right."

Sandoval stopped breathing for a moment. "Is that your answer?"

"Yes," Kincaid said, looking up at him. "Yes," he said again, with a sigh, appearing pale. "I'll – I'll give you something," he said slowly. "To let you know how to contact your son. Is that agreeable?"

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Because," Kincaid said flatly, eyes dark, and somehow sad.

"When will I get the information, then?"

"By tomorrow," Kincaid assured him, some color returning to his face.

"You know where –"

"I can find out," Kincaid said wryly, and there was a shared moment of enemies respecting each other.

"Very well." Sandoval paused, almost heady with the thought of finally knowing his son. "Thank you," he said stiffly, and walked out.

* * *

As soon as he left, Liam watched him leave the building via the security cameras, then went to take a shower.

God, what was he _doing_? Faced the reality that Sandoval would know, he felt like throwing up. Sandoval had hurt him. In so many ways. He had admitted to Sandoval he had been idealistic, and he still felt he was, in certain respects. But he couldn't afford to let himself hope for a good outcome, not here. He had wanted to believe in his father in the beginning, in those first months, but reality was not kind to children. Even ones that appeared to be adults.

But he was an adult, he thought, letting the water stream down his face. He thought of Sandoval's words, of Renee. Renee's quiet assurance, not really joking, that Sandoval could be dealt with if he reacted badly. Renee's own reaction had been … enlightening. But she had always treated him as an equal, if an odd one. Augur wanted to protect him, Lily had been his big sister, expecting a lot of him and pushing him if she didn't get it.

But Renee. What held them together now, that he had such a sick feeling when he heard of the assassination attempt?

Liam had never been a child. Sometimes he thought Renee hadn't either.

Turning points. They converged into one moment, it often seemed. He needed … he needed to talk to Renee.

And copy a security feed.

He opened his eyes and breathed deep.

* * *

Renee was ready to be discharged when he arrived. Media surrounded the hospital, but Liam knew it was a futile effort; her security was efficient and they wouldn't get close. And they knew him well enough to just let him pass through.

Renee was dressed and sitting on the hospital bed when he entered, talking to her doctor, who looked like he was being streamrolled from the vaguely wild look in his eyes.

Liam repressed his smile until he looked at Renee.

"Just sign the release papers," she finished, glancing at the doctor then greeting Liam with a raised eyebrow. "Hello, Liam."

"Leaving already?" he inquired, walking up and sitting beside her, to her unamused glare.

"Yes," she replied shortly. She looked at him sideways. "What is going on?" Then her expression cleared; he knew he wouldn't have to answer, she was always quick. "You told him." Pause. "No. You're going to?"

He nodded. "I think – I think the most thorough explanation would be to just show him."

"Show him how?" Renee asked, leaning closer, watching him.

"The security feed from my birth," Liam explained. "And … when I grew up, as well, I think." And his mother's memory being wiped. Liam had never known, still don't know, how much of the last conversation Sandoval had heard between Liam and his mother.

"I'm sorry," Renee said softly.

"Don't be," Liam said. "I'm not." He'd had … not enough of his mother. But where he was at his life now, with the decisions made and the costs calculated, he wasn't sorry.

Renee tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"Anyway, that's not what I came here to talk about," Liam said, shaking his head.

"You think Sandoval will react well?"

"I can't predict," Liam said honestly. "But … I've made my decision." His mouth quirked into a smile. "Don't distract me."

"Okay, what then?"

"I wanted to talk about us, our relationship," Liam said quietly, watching _her_ carefully now. Several things passed, like quicksilver, through her eyes.

"I'm not sure –"

"We're not enemies, Renee. Not now, and not even friends by circumstance. And do you even want to be?" He paused, but she didn't reply, looking away. "I don't think so." It was his turn to look away, as he said his next words: "I don't want to live with regrets. I have enough of those, and I think you do as well."

"Kincaid –"

He looked at her, and she stopped. She met his gaze, and he saw the vulnerability there.

"It won't be easy," she whispered. She was cold and hard, having shaped herself to be. And his life, even now, was one of uncertainty. As close as they were, there was an ocean of both understanding too well, and not understanding enough of each other. That which had marked him marked her.

"It never has been," Liam said shortly.

"True." A moment passed. Then she stood up, and with a sharp smile, held out her arm. Both of their breathing was uneven, excited, uncertain. Smiling back, Liam took her arm, escorting her out. "Okay then," she said, and they walked out together.

* * *

Sandoval had watched the recording three times, and checked the authenticity five times. Save for the fact that it was two files spliced together, it appeared to be totally accurate, not fake at all.

_Damn you, Kincaid._

_Damn you, Liam. _

His son was Liam Kincaid. Finding out his son was partly alien hadn't been so much of a shock, not more so than finding he had one at all. But to discover his son had been his enemy, his son had worked with him, had known the worst parts of him …

Liam had still given him the recording. He'd wanted, Sandoval could see clearly now, to have a relationship with Sandoval; he just hadn't been able to trust Sandoval enough to take that step. It was obvious in hindsight how Liam had watched him, not always critically, but almost curiously. As an adult would, not a child, skeptical but hoping.

He wondered briefly how many times he had dashed that hope of friendship, and didn't want to count.

He wondered if he wanted to know his son at all, this irritating … He wondered if this was why Da'an had been so careful, so protective of Liam. It explained everything: Liam's Kimeran heritage had been the reason for their relationship. Confusing edits and cover-ups suddenly made sense. Liam had survived what many would not have, what a human could not have, because of just that: he wasn't human.

The odd dichotomy made sense, too, of the child-like idealism and the hardened core that Sandoval had always thought was because of his being a soldier. But Liam had never been a soldier, but a fighter.

He had so many questions. How was Liam involved in uniting the Taelons and the Jaridians? He had to be, given the Taelon's near terror of the Kimera, and the easy acceptance that existed now. How had he grown up so quickly, with such ease of interacting in the human world, when he should know nothing of it? Had he joined the Resistance because he was literally born into it, or because … ?

Other questions Liam _had_ answered. The more important ones, he supposed. He didn't hate Sandoval, and that was a mercy, for all that Sandoval wasn't sure anymore if he wanted to know his son as his son. He wanted …

He'd wanted his son, and Kincaid had delivered.

He had known this wouldn't be easy. He hadn't anticipated it would be this difficult, but what had been over the past decade? Why would it get any easier? It wouldn't be easy for Liam either, he was perfectly aware; he had enough self-loathing to know just how much. To know of a father's past misdeeds and to have experienced them personally were two entirely different things.

The recording was an offering as much as an explanation. It demanded nothing, it was not a face-to-face revelation, there was time. Time. And there had been time enough without his son; and he supposed Liam had had time enough without a father, having lost a mother. His grief, his tears, holding her in his arms made so much more sense.

Sandoval got up. Took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, and picked up his global.

And he thought through how he wanted to say that if Liam wanted a relationship, he was willing to try.

_finis_


End file.
